The Blockhouse - A Ballad by Coldstreamer (Harry Graham).

Jocelyn Henry Clive "Harry" Graham (1874 - 1936) was a Lieutenant in the Coldstream Guards, he served in the Second Boer War where he was promoted to Captain. He had already had published two books (Ruthless Rhymes for Heartless Homes, and Little Miss Nobody) before his "Ballads of the Boer War (1902)" from which this verse originates from. He went on to become a journalist and boast a long list of published works.

'Ere am I in a Block'ouse,

Like a 'ornet under a glass;

Nothin' to do but sentry-go,

H'up an' down, an' to an' fro,

Watchin' the trains pass.

'Ere am I in a Block'ouse,

Full fed up with the game;

Stuck 'ere now five months an' more,

Never a 'undred yards from the door,

And h'every day the same!

Smoke? I've smoked myself silly;

And read till I couldn't see;

But I ain't no scholard like some, no fear,

An' the sort o' reading they sends us 'ere

Is a bit too stiff for me.

I misses my daily paper,

An' my 'alf-an'-'alf out 'ere;

You can 'ave my tot o' ration rum

An' my share o' the magazines as come,

For a Star an' pint o' beer.

Last week we'd a sack o' papers,

An' what do you think h'I got?

A copy o' Punch (as I can't abide,

'Cos they 'ides the jokes so far inside

That I misses the blooming lot),

A couple o' Daily Graphics,

Which was good, if they wasn't new,

An' a 'opeless sort of magazine

With the longest words as h'ever I seen,

Called the National Review.

Still I was fairly lucky,

For Dick, -- 'e's our 'eavyweight,

'Ad a dozen copies o' Woman's Chat,

With "Seven ways for to trim a 'at"

An' a "Supplement Fashion Plate!"

Joe got a h'Athenaeum

Which 'e never even tried,

A couple o' numbers of Sporting Tips,

A Weekly Times an' a 'Alfpenny Snips,

And a Bradshaw's Monthly Guide.

Bless you! I ain't no grumbler,

I'm only a-'aving my fun;

I'm only grateful enough, Gawd knows, an' yet

I misses my weekly P'lice Gazette

An' my h'extry special Sun.

'Ere am I in a Block'ouse,

One of thousands more;

Same old dooties, rain or shine,

Watchin' the same old bit of line

For the same old Brother Boer.

'Ere I sweats in the daytime,

'Ere I freezes at night;

Same old game, week in week out,

Same old Kopjes round about,

An' the same wire fence in sight.

H'Always the same old business,

With the same old false alarms;

Some poor h'ignorant volunteer

Fires his gun in a Block'ouse near

An' we 'as to "stand to arms!"

Natives out in the sangers

Blazing away all night;

They knows well what they 'ave in store

If they're caught alive by the friendly Boer

An' they means for to make a fight.

Then there's the blooming "Brethren,"

An' a lively noise they make;

'Ide in a donga out o' sight

Snipin' the sentries 'alf the night,

An' keeping us all awake.

Three A.M. an' the veldt's astir,

An' the cocks begin to crow,

An' I 'arks to the "'onk" o' the Native crane

Till it's time for the morning water train

Or some more o' the sentry go.

H'I'm one o' the "Royal Fed-ups,"

More than earnin' my pay;

This 'ere is a job for the C.I.V.*

H'or the bullionaires o' the P.A.G.*

As is getting five bob a day.

*City of London Imperial Volunteers.

*Prince Alfred's Guard.

Sometimes a local paper

Drops as a train rolls by,

An' I reads of a "Capture of Yeomanry"

Or "More surrenders of D.M.T."*

An' "Give me a 'orse!" sez I.

*District Mounted Troops.

We're h'only regular soldiers

On a blooming bob a day,

But as good as them h'amatoor M.I.*

As well - an' better'n they!

*Mounted Infantry.

For what you h'asks at present

Is more than my shillings worth,

An' it ain't my bloomin' idea at all

O' what Mister Kipling likes to call

The "Gawdliest life h'on earth!"

Give me a 'ard days trekking!

Give me a bit of a scrap!

H'Open veldt an' a bivouac fire

Is 'eaven compared to this cage o' wire,

Where I feels like a rat in a trap.

Lor! but the time goes tejus,

'Owever so 'ard you try

To read the news as is six months old,

To drink biled water as won't get old,

An' wave as the train pass by.

Somebody 'as to do it!

'Tisn't for me to whine;

But it does me good for to 'ave a "grouse"

As I sits in this bloomin' Bee'ive'ouse

A-guarding the Western Line.

Some day, as I don't doubt it,

The end o' the show will come;

Meanwhile we're doin' the best we can,

An' 'ere (thanks be!) comes the ration man,

"Roll up for your tot of rum!"

The Gin Shop; or, A Peep into a Prison - 1795.

Published at the latter end of the Gin Craze in 1795, this is a warning ballad on the evils of the demon drink.

Look thro' the land from North to South,

And look from East to West;

And to see what is to Englishmen,

Of life the deadliest pest.

It is not want, tho' that is bad,

Nor war, tho' that is worse;

But Britons endure, alas!

A self inflicted curse.

Go where you will throughout the realm,

You'll find the reigning sin,

In cities, villages, and towns;

- The Monster's name is GIN.

The Prince of darkness never sent

To man a deadlier foe;

"My name is Legion," it may say,

The source of every woe.

Nor does the fiend alone deprive

The labourer of his wealth;

That is not all, it murders too

His honest name and health.

We say the times are grievous hard,

And hard they are, 'tis true;

But, drunkards, to your wives and babes

They're harder made by you.

The drunkard's tax is self imposed,

Like every other sin;

The taxes altogether lay,

No weight so great as GIN.

The State compels no man to drink,

Compels no man to gamble;

'Tis GIN and gambling sink him down

To rags, and want, and shame.

The kindest husband, chang'd by GIN,

Is for a tyrant known;

The tenderest heart that nature made,

Becomes a heart of stone.

In many a house the harmless babes

Are poorly cloth'd and fed:

Because the craving GIN-SHOP takes

The children's daily bread.

Come, neighbour, take a walk with me,

Thro' many a London street;

And see the cause of penury

In hundreds we shall meet.

We shall not need to travel far -

Behold that great man's door;

He well discerns that idle crew,

From the deserving poor.

He will relieve with liberal hand

The child of honest thrift;

But where long scores at GIN-SHOPS stand

He will withhold his gift. 

Behold that shivering female there,

Who plies her woeful trade!

'Tis ten to one you'll find that GIN,

That hopeless wretch has made.

Look down these steps, and view below

Yon cellar underground;

There every want and every woe,

And every sin is found.

Those little wretches trembling there,

With hunger and with cold,

Were by their parents love of GIN,

To sin and misery sold.

Blest be those friends* to human kind

Who take these wretches up,

Ere they have drunk the bitter dregs

Of their sad parents' cup.

*The Philanthropic Society.

Look thro' that prison iron bars,

Look thro' that dismal grate;

And learn what dire misfortune brought

So terrible a fate.

The Debtor and Felon too,

Tho' differing much in sin,

Tho' oft you'll find were thither brought

By all destroying GIN.

Yet heaven forbid I should confound

Calamity with guilt!

Or name the Debtor's lesser fault. 

With blood of brother spilt.

To prison dire misfortune oft

The guiltless debtor brings;

Yet oft'ner far it will be found

From GIN the misery springs.

See the pale manufacturer there,

How lank and lean he lies!

How haggard is his sickly cheek!

How dim his hollow eyes.

He plied the loom with good success,

His wages still were high;

Twice what the village labourer gains,

His master did supply.

No book debts kept him from his cash

All paid as soon as due;

His wages on the Saturday

To fail he never knew.

How amply had his gains suffic'd,

On wife and children spent!

But all must for his pleasures go;

All to the GIN-SHOP went.

See that apprentice, young in years,

But hackney'd long in sin;

What made him rob his master's till?

Alas! 'twas love of GIN.

That serving man - I knew him once

So jaunty, spruce, and smart!

Why did he steal, then pawn the plate!

'Twas GIN ensnar'd his heart.

But hark! What dismal sound is that?

'Tis Saint Sepulchre's Bell!

It tolls, alas! For human guilt,

Some malefactor's knell.

O! Woeful sound! O! What could cause,

Such a punishment and sin?

Hark! Hear his words, he owns the cause -

BAD COMPANY and GIN.

And when the future Lot is fix'd,

Of darkness, fire and chains,

How can the drunkard hope to escape

Those everlasting pains?

For if the murderer's doom'd to woe,

As holy writ declares,

The drunkard with self murderers

That dreadful portion shares.

Michael Beheim - Gedicht Ueber Den Woiwoden Wlad Drakul 1463 - translated into English.

"Gedicht Ueber Den Woiwoden Wlad Drakul" is a work of propaganda by the German Meistersinger Michael Beheim. Written and performed during Vlad Dracula's lifetime, it was a great success, everyone wanted to hear of the dreadful deeds performed by the infamous Dracula. This epic song would be the blueprint for the later pamphlet Dracole Waida, printed in Nuremberg in 1488.

In the text Beheim uses several spellings of "Dracula", these include Trakle, Tracol, Dracol and Drakul, I have used Drakul throughout.

A Poem About Voivode Vlad Drakul - Michael Beheim 1463.

Of a tyrant named Drakul, 

voivode of Wallachia.

The very greatest tyrant

that I have ever known

upon all this earth,

Under the wide heavens,

Since the world was new, 

there can never be one worse:

    of him now I will recite.

    He was called Drakul Waida,

    and Wallachia stood under his rule.

     His father also was a lord of the land,

     a mighty voivode and stern,

     and carried out his rule with tyranny,

     also with wickedness and misdeed,

therefore his head was cut off so that

his power was broken.

      A lord there was, his father,

      King Matthias of Hungary, lord,—

     János Hunyadi, so he was called,—

governor of Hungary. 

      He had this voivode put to death,

      the same son, whose name was 

Drakul, and his brother with him (Radu).

      They had sworn oaths to him, then they 

had pledged with unanimous voice;

      they had promised and sworn, that they

      would give themselves to the Christian faith

and would protect and uphold it.

The year that one writes and counts

      from Christ our Lord’s birth

      fourteen hundred years and fifty-six thereafter,

when the same Drakul was chosen and exalted

      as ruler and lord of the entire land of Wallachia

therefore, therein to sow and pervert.

And as he went into that land all the wickedness, 

vice, and shame, as anyone may well reckon:

First of all he had Lassla the lord killed

with his own noble kin.

The same Lassla, who was also once

lord in Wallachia —

Drakul came upon him treacherously

      with disgrace, shame, and suffering.

After this he left scarcely

      an area or even a whole district unburned.

He laid waste and devastated;

these were villages and also market towns,

      of which I will name some: Târgșor was one,

      another was Neudorf, as it was called,

      the third was Haliczmarket, which was known

as the general market of the land.

And he completely burned Peckendorf in the 

land of Wurzen, with men and also with women.

And of all the people, great and small,

whoever was found therein, he left none alive;

What he did not burn, he had cut down and

thus he carried away with him children, women, and men.

He went into Wallachia and had them all in a row

      impaled and also murdered.

Little children he newly

had from their mothers torn away
and cruelly impaled. He never held peace again;

many of his men-at-arms and serfs were impaled.

Oh!  many young boys from various regions 

and lands were sent to him in Wallachia,

      that they should see it and learn the 

Wallachian language;

      Drakul had them thrown into a barn.

There were four hundred or more of them,

to whom he had killed, this raging brute. 

He had them all burned and said: “I will not allow 

that they gain knowledge, or even recognise my land.”

      He carried out his reign of horror,

      families impaled altogether and entirely torn apart,

cut and hewn from the body, old and young, 

great and small, men and women, to the greatest number:
Brother and sister, or child, nephew and niece, 

whoever they were — that was a great slaughter.

       He also had some of his people buried naked 

and alive in the earth as a mockery.

And after that he had them

shot at with sharp arrows —
that is true and not a myth!
In the moment they were struck they gave 

up their lives; many were roasted and skinned .

       He captured their lord, called Dan,

        and afterwards had him pray with his priesthood.

When he had accomplished his will,

and Dan, as he then thought,
had considered the evil and his disgrace,
he had a grave made for him and had Dan led 

to the grave and there he cut his head off;

        he committed many wicked deeds.

Envoys were sent to him from Hungary 

and from Saxony and also from the Sibiu region.

In the number of five hundred he kept them

for five weeks, so they could wonder if the wicked 

man would impale or strangle.

They were in great fear, for he had the stakes made

        in the inn before the gate of the fortress.

       He also kept them long in his prison and constraint; 

because he suspected that he would be betrayed by them,

        then one night he rose and hastened away from there.

        With all his might; early in the morning, there to 

Wurzenland, I know, then came the wicked one.

.

                                      In villages, strongholds, and towns that 

                                     he then overran, he had them all burned, 

                                        and for that he was driven and angry;

        he also had them burned altogether —

      monasteries, churches, and houses:
children, women, and men
he had them all done to death that day;

none came away alive.

At Kronstadt (Brasov) in the suburbs

the chapel is called Saint Jacob,

there Drakul had murder committed.

And completely burned down the 

suburb and all the people he found,

men and women and the children, maids and old, 

great and small, he gathered them all together 

wherever he might find them.

One day, early in the morning he hurried with 

these people to the hill above the church

and had them impaled all around the hill's

curve, lengthwise and sideways.

Hear of the wicked rogue's great cruelty:

so that he sat at his table and ate to his great joy.

He was very merry and in good spirits when he saw 

the people's blood; he had the habit of washing his 

hands in it; when he held his mealtime there he had fresh

amusement and good cheer; so they had to treat him

thus when one was at his table.

With poor people he had tortured them, so 

that they cried aloud, that was his pleasure:

“Ah, hear what pleasant sport and wondrous friendship!” 

thus spoke the wicked one.

The poor people were thrown down, they struck off at once

the fingers from the hands and also their other limbs;

He had some of the false knaves their ears, mouths, 

and noses cut off, and had all their hair torn out.

Or he had them hung on a stake;
some were burned through the cheek.
Severe was the torment and punishment.
What a person could think of to torment a man,

so that he cried out loudly and pitifully —

such pain there was of many kinds.

When one had long tortured people in such 

pain and constraint, and in such torment,

that they could scarcely cry out anymore,

then he draws his sword and cuts, or strangles.

So weak and so exhausted that they hardly 

twist and writhe — such were the children, 

wives, and men, that he wished to have 

amusement, joy, or pleasure.

He also burned the church of Saint 

Bartholomew in Kronstadt, and had 

the ornaments, monstrances, chalices, and vestments

brought to him — all that was to be found there.

He sent out one of his captains into a village

that he was to devastate and burn — hear of this 

wicked unclean one: the village was called Seiding (Codlea);

Coming from this village the captain said:

 “I gladly give you tribute, so I may bring news to you.

Lord, according to your affairs, when the inhabitants 

are so weak, you are much too strong for them,

but when they are so strong, and also with war 

much too strong."

Drakul took his hand and had him gruesomely eaten

and thus he perished. Because he had not done as asked,

therefore he had to die.

There were also merchants with their merchant company

in Wurzenland towards Tuna, towards Preissl, 

as I suppose. There were six hundred of them, as I am told,

had them all eaten, and took their goods as well.

He also had in the same fashion a great kettle made

into which one could crawl. With two handles,

over it was made a lid, so that one could set the 

kettle upon the fire and heat it very greatly.

The lid over the kettle was pierced, so that a 

man’s head might just reach through it.

And then he had first a great fire made beneath it

and the kettle set over it. And water was poured in

and the people set to boil in it; also children 

and women, he had them likewise cooked.

He also, as I truly heard tell, at Siebenbürgen in Kolmar,

there too he had people cut up like weeds;

maids, men and women, children, great and small, 

young and old, he had them eaten as well

and all their bodies removed.

The wretch and tyrant inflicted all the pains that 

one ever could conceive, which tyrants have ever devised.

 No one has ever done so much

Herod, Diocletian, Nero, and all the others!

Many he had wounded and their wounds 

rubbed with salt, many he had roasted in 

black pitch — much torment was invented!

Many he had pierced and burned, many boiled, 

many shamed, many hanged, many flayed, 

many were ground on a slab of stone, many skinned to 

the bone, many imprisoned in secret filth—

there they were confined.

Many were hanged with leprous skins, many he had hanged 

by an iron chain. They were slashed in the eyes, nose, 

and mouth and in their shameful parts.

These he had hanged and pelted with stones

until life departed from them; many people he had

their eyes bored out with augers

and nails driven through their ears—

the evil blood flowed!

There was neither safety nor protection;

many he had torn from their intestines,

which he had ripped out; also he had dogs trained

so that one might set them upon people to tear and 

devour them; many he had broken on the wheel,

their limbs crushed, many he struck upon the brain

with clubs, maces, and flails.

Some he bound upon wild horses and let them run 

along the road; some he bound to wagons

and let them run down the mountain,

where there was no stopping nor turning back until they 

lost their heads. Some he cast out of windows,

others he thrust into guns and then had them shot out —

very many had to suffer!

And some he had thrown down from high towers, 

also into deep waters and wells.

He cut off their feet and also their hands

and let them lie there until they began to die;

some he cut to pieces. 

He took nursing infants,

half a year old or more, whom the mothers 

were adorning at their breasts, and also they

had lovingly laid their arms about them, their little 

 children around their mother had clung;

these he had thus impaled, mother and child in 

the swaddling clothes …

The women he had their breasts cut off,

and the small nursing children had their heads 

thrust through there. And he had them impaled 

together; from the mothers he took their 

little children, which he had roasted,

and gave them to eat; then he cut off their 

breasts and had these also roasted; 

the women had to eat them.

Afterwards he had them impaled at once;

some he crushed with pounding blows,

some he had pressed to death.

And all kinds of people came to him,

man, woman, child, old, young, great and small,

he had them all impaled: hands and feet they 

were tortured with scythe and tongs, and in 

addition freshly flayed and skinned.

He said: “Yes, how painfully grass blades are torn up,” —

he had their hands and feet eaten as well, unceasingly!

These were, as I have also heard tell, all kinds of people 

and also Christians, Saracens, Wallachians,

Jews, heathens, gypsies also.

But what did he do next about these:

He had a gypsy arrested, for stealing;

there came the others of his companions, 

and the gypsies gave a tract for the prisoner.

Drakul said: “That will not do, he shall hang,

he is in this land, against it no one should strive.”

They said: “Lord, you have erred; it is not our custom

to execute someone, nor do we despise anyone.

When we have sealed letters from the Roman 

emperors in many places, that we should not 

be hanged."

Now observe what Drakul did: he did not 

believe a word, but heard their strange complaints —

this gypsy he had boiled in a great kettle;

the other gypsies he summoned —

all together they came there, —

and were forced to eat.

Now listen what more happened: a more honest and 

pious man came to him. He found him

at the place where he had been impaling;

he went under them and looked as was his custom.

There were many and various people;

their number was like a great forest, many a man hung there.

This same man spoke to Drakul about why

he went thus under this stench. Drakul had the man set 

upon a spit and roasted over a fire, 

he thanked him for his lesson.

He had him roasted very high, so that the 

stench and smoke might not greatly disgust him!

Ah, what a shame and disgrace came to this Drakul,

and rightly befell him: for he did not refrain,

people said he had done wrong, that he had taken 

from other men with injustice.

Drakul then led a priest out and invited him to his palace,

where he invited him to eat. And when they had risen 

from the table, he ordered a terrible and hideous

man to be brought in there to eat. And the priest thought he

understood what this Drakul meant, and took his meal 

with the ladle in his hand. The Drakul said: “Now tell me

what you think of this, you who do not refrain.”

The priest said: “Yes, that is my custom in such meals.”

The Drakul said: “Why then do you take my morsel

that I have broken for you here? It will do you no good!”

He had him seized and impaled, and the rogue

also in the same hour.

His country’s lords all together, and the best in his land,

came to his house as well. That time it was 

accomplished splendidly; then he began among the 

lords, and the eldest among them asked:

“How many did he think were bold and noble

in this land?” He answered the same question 

splendidly, as many as he thought were pagans 

in his mind; and likewise he asked all others,

old and young, each in turn; he asked them the 

same further question, these lords among themselves:

“How many of such a lord did they think there 

were in the land?”

They all answered together; each one who knew 

the matter, one thought thirty, another twenty;

but none thought the answer was seven.

Thus this questioning was completed,

as I have now sung.

The Drakul said: “Tell me, how does one 

keep a firm rule, so that bold and noble lords

may exist in your land? There must be justice

against the wickedness of your evildoers.”

He captured them all, young and old, and 

had them impaled by force.

They were certainly five hundred.

Drakul had a wanton wife, who pretended 

she was pregnant with a child.

Drakul had her examined by another woman 

she was shown into the hall in this manner;

Drakul had the same wife slit open entirely,

and her body torn out from shame in his presence,

and said he wished to see her fruit and that she 

should suffer thus because of her state.

This was said of him, it was written fourteen 

hundred and sixty years, on Saint Bartholomew’s Day. 

The Drakul had them all seized at once by the neck, 

and all Wallachians, young and old, the great and the small.

He divided them equally there at home; he had a 

wide enclosure outside the capital.

Whoever could comprehend what was done there

would consider it dreadful; and it happened there —

On sharp stakes, forked and hooked,

one saw them heaped up, and all were cruelly 

killed with knives, swords, sabres.

Although he did not kill some that time, he had them 

taken along with him and cruelly had them impaled.

And he burned out all the villages with goods and 

all their possessions — you should know this for certain.

The number of people he counted, as was made 

known to us, was far more than thirty thousand,

both young and old!

As the year was recorded there: fourteen hundred sixty-two,

then the Drakul came into the great land of the Turks, where

he slew many of them, as we have heard,

well five and twenty thousand Christians and heathens 

of every kind; there was such misery and outcry

that it would have horrified anyone.

Among them were the most beautiful women

ever seen by any man; they were spared

by his courtiers, who begged the Drakul

that he would not have them murdered

but give them to them as wives.

Drakul would not grant this: he had the 

women and the courtiers cut down like grass.

Drakul owed taxes to the Turkish emperor, 

who for that reason sent his embassy to him.

Certain nobles and Turks who came to the 

Drakul there demanded from him

their lord’s overdue tribute.

The Drakul said: “I will myself personally repay 

the tribute, that seems to me the right course.”

When the Turks learned that he himself intended 

to go to the emperor, they all rejoiced at it. —

But the Drakul had them seized and dragged 

after him, as I have heard, subjected to 

torture with torment, and dealt with 

them altogether; the Turkish scribes he had

their noses and mouths cut off and sent them 

thus back home.

The whole region round about, which was called 

Bulgaria, was entirely burned.

The people whom he killed there have been reckoned 

and estimated and recorded: well five and twenty 

thousand, besides those who in the fire

perished horribly and cruelly were consumed.

A region and an entire land, called Fugraci by name,

he had wholly murdered; old and young, as well as 

men and women, he had them all slain

and impaled upon stakes.

People from Transylvania saw in Wallachia
men whom he in a single row had caused to be 

impaled and strangled, they hung there without number

on stakes, like a great forest, so that it was 

beyond measure.

Some he disgraced, boiled, roasted, and destroyed;

some he had drowned, stoned, and put to various 

other kinds of death. — Now hear how it went on:

he had some of his counsellors, to whom he had 

most entrusted his secret affairs.

They helped him conceal his best goods and 

possessions at that time; then he himself 

beheaded them, so that they would not

betray or reveal the same treasure in hall 

or vault where it was hidden.

He committed many worse evil deeds;

the tyrant and villain was so base that one had 

much to fear. He had some of his countrymen

beheaded; their heads he took for himself and had crabs 

caught with them; afterwards the villain sent 

out and invited their friends to eat at his house.

One hears of great shame and wicked deeds

that this villain and tyrant and evil 

monster committed —of which I will now sing:

Those same heads the false knave gave to these 

people to eat and said: “You have bitten and eaten what 

you yourselves found.”

When he had made this known, he afterwards had 

them impaled. —

He also in his land saw a peasant working

in a short coat and said:

“Now tell me openly, Have you a wife?" 

He said: "Sir, yes."

He said: "Bring her here to me."

She was brought to him.

This Drakul said to her:

“Now tell me, what is your work?”

She said: "Lord, now hear: I cook, spin, wash, and bake."

At once he had her impaled because she had 

clothed her husband so poorly.

That they could not put a long shirt or coat on him

one could well see; — He gave him another woman and said: 

“That is in shame with this short coat; you will put on a longer one,

or I will have you impaled — there would not be 

any pain here.”

The monk Saint Bernardinus, who went barefoot, 

saw him coming to him. The alms he 

had gathered he put into his coat. The Drakul began 

to speak: “How is your life so poor?”

They said: “Lord, the eternal rich one will reward 

us for it.” Then he said to the two brothers: 

“Would you like to be there soon?”

They said: “Lord, yes, if we deserved it, if it is our Lord's will.”

He said: “I will help you, so that you may reach heaven.”

He had them quickly given food and said: “I have 

done my favour by you.”

The good two brothers had a donkey led there

into the Drakul’s court. As they were there and ate

and bread was brought to them, they were asked to follow him.

The donkey ran into the castle and made a great outcry.

The Drakul said: “It is right that it be great with 

such a sound.” His servants said: “These two monks 

leave a donkey standing there, he makes such noise.”

He said: “You also gladly pray to heaven for his soul;

I must also help him. So that he may be with you.”

Drakul had the donkey brought in and impaled

with his brothers.

The Drakul rode into Wallachia, he came from Sirevi,

where he had also murdered.

Near Sirevi there was a monastery, called Gorrion,

that was burned down.

There were three brothers in it, living in the same cloister,

who went about with alms bags — they were called at that time:

they gathered alms in the villages; they came together home.

Now hear the name of this false man: this guardian was 

called Brother Hans, Brother Michel the other,

Brother Jacob the third.

The Drakul called for Michel and said: “Monk, come to me

quickly and avoid me not.” Brother Michel came to him;

the Drakul asked him more and said whether he yet 

trusted and thought that he would receive mercy

when he came to heaven, as had the people he had killed, 

whom he had diligently brought into God's care.

Brother Michel answered; that he was made holy and 

brought people into heaven, of that he had no doubt at all.

He was the holiest man of all that had ever been born 

among men, there would be none like him.

Brother Michel said: “Lord, you may well come to grace,

when God has favoured many, to whom his grace

is never far away.”

And Brother Hans, the guardian, was also quickly called to him

and said: “Lord monk, now tell me, how do you think

it will turn out for me?"

Brother Hans answered; “Wait, and your number will end, 

since you, wicked tyrant, have forgotten and squandered 

so many innocent people. “Unless the devil be your kin, you are 

entirely damned, accursed down to the ashes. I know well 

that I must die because of you and because of the sweet 

children whose throats you have cut; therefore I now rejoice

that I am going to my Lord.”

The Drakul said: “Speak enough; you shall not 

overreach yourself. When it comes to your peace.”

The brother said: “You evil rogue, you murderer without 

mercy, you murderer without pity, you plunderer and 

tyrant, you wasteful tyrant, how you torment the poor.

“What have these pregnant women done to you,

that you have had them eat? What have the little children 

done to you, what have you done to their bodies?”

“Though he be but three days old, yet he turns full well 

within three hours; what thou leavest uneaten,

none remains who would not do and who is not 

turned into blood, that we may know well!"

"What sayest thou of one who therefore loses many his life,

whom thou innocently hast shed, his tender blood so pure!

Me much it has angered, murderous hate— what thou hast 

done in thy reckoning, that should now be paid to me.”

The Drakul spoke: “That will I say and judge thee sharply,

whenever one would accuse thee. That he who began 

the thing may not just cut the cover that has grown;

but also the root to the ground."

"When once the roots stand, at year, then must it again

grow upward unceasingly. These little ones who are

there will soon avenge their father. Nay, I will speak it 

openly — if the roots were not there, they would easily 

understand, thy father, as I reckon.”

The brother spoke: “Fierce and angry one, thinkest thou to 

live eternally and ever without end?

Now behold him who has done innocent bloodshed,

whose body thou hast caused to perish — before God 

in heaven shall it all cry out in smoke;

thou blind fool and senseless one —

thy deeds are detestable!”

The Drakul took the monk at his side; he himself

impaled him, but not like the others.

The others had a stake driven into their backs, 

this time he wandered around the impaling.

A stake or spear he drove into the monks head,

his head down and his feet turned upside down.

He impaled them before that;

many a poor monk was terrified, many fled.

The pious rose up — Brother Jacob, whom I have 

named, who left in the wagon.

In Styria in that land he came to Neustadt,

to our lord the emperor’s court, and to a monastery.

There I myself, Michael Beheim,

came to this brother; he told me much evil

which the Drakul had begun, which I have 

composed in verse from this narrative.

Yet more of his wickedness and perverted ways,

of his cruelty, there is so much more than can be 

told of him. Well three hundred gypsies came to the 

Drakul’s land — now hear what was done to them:

The Drakul in Wallachia took out the three best

and had them roasted.

And the others, the gypsies, told to eat them all,

as many as were in that company, great and small alike.

The Drakul spoke: “Thus you must now each eat the other,

from the least unto the greatest, unless you wish to do my 

will and march against the Turks.

Then they spoke: “Merciful lord, this counsel is not for us —

thy will we will accomplish.” So he rode with them and 

with their horses clad in cowhide, he had them all ride forth;

the Turks advanced against them when they came together.

As the horses of these heathen heard the cry

and saw the gypsies — horses and men alike —

they shuddered and fled before them; the Turks came upon them

and could not rise.

Against one water they hastened at once, and the gypsies lay low;

deep into the water’s ditch — the heathen all drowned.

When the horses bore them so the heathen all alike

sank in the water.

Many sick, blind, crippled, lame, petty and poor — 

all that was there — he had them all taken to a barn,

since the meal had been made. After, he had them all burned;

and said: “This folk shall no longer be.”

There were six hundred or more; not one came away alive!

Truly, Wallachia is known to me, in embassy I have 

often gone there; I have gone there for this and that. 

He also had many stripped naked,

as I have heard tell, and under their hats

he had them pricked with needles and beaten, 

so that he did not pray, as the Wallach still does.

The Drakul asked them more what kind of disposition and 

opinion they had, that they should suffer such things.

They also had to endure it, and let the pricking stand.

They said: “It is not our custom against the emperor to do this;

we shall never again enter into any dealings.”

The Drakul said: “Your custom will I cause not to be broken 

and bent." They thanked him greatly  and very highly

and said: “Most gracious lord, with all good intent

we will serve you always. Whether you show us grace,

your praise will be lauded by us; of you we shall never waver.”

The wrathful and cruel tyrant murdered one of them, and seized

good strong nails of iron, and drove them about and about, 

as is believed, the little hats onto the head,

so that they might not depart. 

Or you may call it impalement: so he practices it — 

in such a manner he lives at all times! 

His wickedness, which he devised and accomplished over 

many people, was so great and so much that I can scarcely 

fathom it; therefore I let it stand and leave it be.

Whoever can poetically compose his wickedness,

who was his sinister counsellor, he carried out his rule 

and state with the most dreadful practices.

One might still find on earth those he held in great esteem

those who had come before him: from Hungary or 

from Serbia, from the Turks or the Tatars,

they were all received.

As his courtly ceremony would have it: whoever he sought 

when he wished, his government was unheard of,

for it was full of wicked example!

His servants and courtiers were likewise unfaithful and 

false on all sides. No one at any time stood by another,

nor could anyone trust another; no community were they.

When he sat in full court and many were assembled,

a whole people from many lands were ready for him in battle.

Therefore one cannot properly reflect upon such a mind,

unless one lives in such adversity. His laughter and mockery

he did not long keep here; he was not always of the same mind.

Discord and strife, as I have already sung to you, 

he began greatly against God and against the right.

When he, as I have sung before, had done such things 

to the Turks, he waited very much in anxious impatience

for the Drakul with hostility; his thoughts he directed thus:

how he might reckon with him; he wrote and sent into his lands 

and made the same known to many bold heathens.

When the Drakul learned that these Turks so fiercely

intended to march against him, indeed with great power, 

so that he might well consider that he could not withstand,

for such great force he had little resistance,

the Turk would take him in hand and drive him away.

“I will try whether it may be that I might gain protection,”

so thought the tyrant. He immediately sent a message

to the same heathen, to this Turkish emperor.

Read and say to me more: that he name him in honour

and forgive him such deeds, ill-treatment and harm.

What he had done against him, that he would act no more 

thus against him and set aside all anger;

King Matthias of Hungary and also his best counsel, he would

compel and overthrow, and deliver them into his hands.

The Turk answered him again: if he did that which he had named,

he would be entirely free of all guilt.

Drakul sought to have the letter sealed securely and 

also wrote in addition, the Turk would be pleased with it.

For in it was written such pestilence that, if he had no 

greater grievance, he would find enough in it.

Drakul had such matters alleged against him falsely,

as if he had sent the pestilence within —

as though it concerned only himself.

No longer did he remain thus idle; the King of Hungary 

sent him word that he should go against the Turks.

To help them he came quickly and boldly,

for no one in that land so gladly wished to 

come to his aid.

He would call on no one else on earth except his 

servants and his many men, he served them and was

also their defender. That he did not wish to 

remain there long, yet the Hungarian king

would not part Wallachia from the Hungarian crown.

The King of Hungary prepared himself with greater 

power than ever before, and he set out from there.

And he departed from the city of Ofen with his army 

the next path toward Transylvania, and to Kronstadt;

with him were many counts.

Rich lords, knights and servants — there was a great host

gathered at that place. And Drakul also came there

and made many of his company remain there.

Nine weeks or more they were together, during which 

time the king learned of the grievous slanders

and murderous treachery that had been done there 

in Turkey against both of them.

The King of Hungary acted as though he knowingly

had dealt in such matters. With Drakul King Matthias

made a decision: they should march against

this Turk without delay, first through Wallachia,

then afterwards into Turkey, against the wicked heathen.

They marched on from there with such skill that one could not

find fault in their conduct. They marched quickly

from the city that is now called in the Wallachian land —

it was six miles long.

Drakul thought he was at home there, for they were 

now under him in a castle called Kungstein.

There Drakul was seized by one of the king’s men,

whose name was well known: Lord Ion Lagra (Jan Jiskra) 

he was called; he was the first to lay hands 

on Drakul and put him under guard

and opposed the bold man.

In Wallachia, his own land, he was taken 

and imprisoned — thus was it ordained.

When he had escorted the king and also brought 

him safely out beyond his land’s borders,

he turned again into Hungary, to the king, 

and reported what had happened there.

There he was seized at once.

A Sample of Michael Beheim's Handwritten Poetry.